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I recommend hydrogen balloons. They're harder to reach and if a projectile limb manages to pop them, they'd go off with a bang. But keep the balloons away from anything flammable or fiery.

As for pumpkins, I'll just..
what? they were just here…

Um, I could make melons, take out the core, and then we could carve them.
To make sure the monsters don't eat the carved melons, we would apply something with a bad smell to them, like garlic.

How about filling them with cyanide? Or putting fluorecent lightbulbs in them, that way if they bite them they would get a good chunk of mercury as well.

No, the melons should have something that is neither dangerous to humans nor animals. If they eat the cyanide or mercury, they would leave behind loose toxins as they roam around, and they may contaminate other things.. yeah it would be a mess.

Just use something non-toxic that the undead would try to avoid. Do you have any spices? Those would also work against their noses/nasal cavities.

The Tangential Telepath was talking about Archimedes, particularly his work on finding π. He said this about his death.

…and after the Roman soldiers broke into the home of Archimedes, he said “do not disturb my circles.” They then killed him.
If any of you, when confronted with imminent death, act in a similar manner, you will also meet the Holey One after death.

The moon is full. The angel noticed that the Holey One was silent. After wondering why this happened, the thought “perhaps the Circle is resting” occurred to him.

Everyone, look at the sky. What do you see?
The Circle Cultists looked, and replied that the moon was circular and pressed the angel for an interpretation.

Actually, the revelations from the Holey One stopped coming in last night. Therefore, we must also rest every full moon. Do not do labor or keep it to a minimum. This goes for all employees or bondservants who worship the Undeserving Circle.

The angel goes to an outdoor restaurant, after he convinced the owners to close for the day. Feeling relaxed, the being sits down.

Whoever sits with me, I will unpack my revelations and teach with.

The angel, dissatisfied, burns one of the gifts, summoning a fire wielder.

FW: O well rounded one, why have you destroyed a gift of the Holey One?
L: I was hoping that someone would be willing to listen.
FW: You see, you and that silly little cult won’t last another earth millennium.
L: Say what you will about me, but leave my Brothers out of this.
FW: Very well. Still curious though…
L: The revelations were too labor intensive to memorize, or even keep a physical copy of. The wisdom was too acute for a being such as myself.
L: But let me ask you a question.
FW: I’m all ears. Technically I’m all fire, but you get what I mean.
L: Where did the knowledge go when I burnt that book?
FW: Uh.. well…
L: Where
L: did
L: it
L: GO?
FW: It’s not easy to turn heat back into matter.
L: Oh really?
L: Are you not strong enough? Do I have to call upon another, more powerful being?
L: I’ve got all night to do so.
L: I have all month.
L: All year.
L: All contentment-heaven day.
L: All heaven-with-pompously-long-and-very-obnoxious-name-which-it-is-no-wonder-why-you-guys-are-so-desperate-for-followers day.
L: Point is, please start finding it now. I’ll be waiting during this life and even the next if it takes you a while.
FW: Ok fine, I’ll help recover the book you renounced the desire to hold.

The angel turned to the multitude of cults who were watching this transpire..
This will ensure that, even when the CoC becomes devoid of members, the Holey One’s wisdom will prevail.
I have 29 volumes of wisdom remaining in my possession. Listen now, or when you’re life expires, you will regret not doing so.
Regret is the one thing powerful enough to condition sloth, the latter of which is the most tenacious hindrance of them all.
It can take thousands, or even millions of arthropod births and deaths to recover from spiritual laziness. It gets especially dangerous with the Sense-sphere heaven, where beings are constantly surrounded with decadent pleasures, distractions, temptations, and luxurious beds.
If others consider you a good person, please don’t ever stop short of becoming an even better person. Compassion and sympathetic joy towards others cannot be “maxed out” because there are simply too many lifeforms to cherish.
If others don’t consider you a good person, or you don’t receive compliments that often, try cultivating the perfection of Good-Will. Start of with building up your confidence and self-love and when it more than satisfies you, spread it to someone you like, someone you’re neutral towards, and someone you dislike, working your way towards being loving and kind to all beings.

The angel arrives at the CoC temple.
The contents of these volumes are out of order; it would take a librarian of great skill to sort these by topic.
The being erects a lectern from the ground.
Don't yet ask why I know earthbending, it was from an ancient life from a different world-system so it's still difficult to recollect.

The angel opens a volume. The CoC's sits around the lectern, in the form of concentric rings.

Thoughts from the Great Mental Singularity of the Tangential Telepath and Holey One.

There are two realities: mundane and supramundane.
The mundane reality is ever-changing.
It deals in opposites.
The opposites are like the numbers on the real number line, where each positive number has a corresponding negative number.
The supramundane reality is constant.
An example is the number zero, which has no counterpart, yet has many other strange and bizarre, sometimes unique properties.
The origin point can be the central point of a straight line, flat plane, or uniform space.
It allows the x,y,z,w, and other axes to pass through it.
It cannot be the divisor of a real number and have a finite quotient.

~
Ideal circles are a supramundane feature of 2-D space.
The points on and of the perimeter all being equidistant from the center.
This makes the Holey One's perimeter the shortest of any shape; easy to defend, difficult to escape.
The shortest possible perimeter = the circumference.
~
This is why whenever members of the CoC do a pilgrimage, they can circumambulate whenever their minds undergo a deep meditative state, wherever.

~~
If it wasn't for the Undeserving Circle, there would be no rotation, and humanity would have never invented the wheel, whether for pottery or vehicular purposes.
~~
And remember Euclid, who collected many supramundane truths into The Elements of Geometry.
His work was the most logically rigorous in the Middle Ages.
Euclid developed his logic from sets of axioms, which included Definitions, Postulates, and Common Notions.
~
The supramundane is always true no matter which aeon or dimension one resides in.
~
The 3rd proposition gave instructions for constructing circles.
From Euclid's axioms comes the propositions, which deduce and analyze the supramundane to a practical level.
In the definitions for the circle and center, the radius is used to describe it.

After going over the last verse again, the angel finishes reading.

It was not easy to extract the terminology from Definition 15 for a circle. Nevertheless, we prevailed.

Thoughts from the Great Mental Singularity of the Tangential Telepath and Holey One.

There are seven stations of consciousness.
The 1st station is the diversity of body and diversity of perception.
This is where some beings in the Sensual Realm reside.
The 2nd station is the diversity of body and singularity of perception.
This is where the most devout and monotheistic of angels reside. It includes the remaining beings of the Sensual Realm.
The 3rd station is the singularity of body and diversity of perception.
This is the destination for those who will get raptured. The different perceptions are due to having different KR backgrounds.
The 4th station is the singularity of body and singularity of perception.
This is the level of consciousness that the Holey One and I use to communicate with each other.
The 5th station is reached when perception of physical form is transcended, perceptions of resistance gone, and perceptions of diversity are not heeded to, leaving the being with the perception of Infinite Space.
The 6th station is reached when the perception of Infinite Space is transcended, leaving the being with the perception of Infinite Consciousness.
The 7th station is reached when the perception of Infinite Consciousness is transcended, leaving the being with the perception of Nothingness.

0

A world system during 56 in every 64 world mega-aeons is destroyed by the fire-element, leaving behind the 3rd station and above.
A world system during 7 in every 64 world mega-aeons is destroyed by the water-element, leaving behind the 4th station and above.
A world system during 1 in every 64 world mega-aeons is destroyed by the wind-element, destroying some of the 4th station, but sparing the very fruitful plane and above.

A song from the Great Mental Singularity of the Tangential Telepath and Holey One

In the not-too-distant future
Year ending in -456
The deceitfuls' in the Sense planes
Some stronger than you and me

We licensed a guy, the engineer
Some guy they didn't like
He built the shitbots this century
Dodecagons still hunt him down

"We'll weave them creepy cults"
"The worst we can make!" (lalala)
"Telepaths must sit and watch them all"
"And we'll monitor their minds!" (lalala)

Bear in mind olors can't control
When the cults arise and cease (lalala)
He'll try to keep his sanity
With the help of his Brethren friends

Temple Roll Call

Soup King!
Q_boi!
Sammy!
Jamie!
Jazz Wizard!
Noooooooooo!

If you're wondering how this world ends
And the next one begins
Then repeat to yourselves "It's just a thread
I hope this will embed"

In the Holey Observation Deck 3000!

I drew up a reference for Olors64's character, just to make sure I'm understanding the description he gave earlier correctly. (Drag it over a dark background so you can see the image without the white parts blending into the background.)

I was a little confused by the perpendicular wings part, does that mean they're not symmetric? Or are they held at a strange angle? The closest thing that came to mind was them all being in the circular arrangement I drew that essentially makes them all perpendicular to each other. I'm really not sure about that part of his OC and I can change it later if necessary, so tell me if I'm wrong on how something's supposed to look.

Now, to go back to spending my time unwisely by making a height chart for every "Mainline" OC of mine (Thankfully very near completion) and creating character designs that won't be used for at least decent while in this thread. (Why did I have to introduce Blütgrindor and her underlings this early? At least designing them is fun, I definitely have some design ideas for them that I think will look cool.)

This is good so far. Make the core smaller, and only 3 sets of wings (6 wings) are visible at a time.
The wings are also bigger.
The core also tends to glow. Optionally, you can put a green undertale heart on the center of the core.

Is this better? The wings look a little funky to me, but it was either them being shaped a little weird or really small, they're already on the edge of the image and I don't really have much more space.

This is great! It’s similar enough to how I picture him and for what I’m going for.

It was a calm, pleasant autumn evening when Soup King Prime sat down to write-up his next progress report for the official journals. A gentle breeze blew a mixture of dead leaves and miscellaneous litter through the dark empty streets of the city.

The machine sat down at his desk and the soft whirring of servos and gears hummed through the air as he began to write.

"Status Update:"

"Things have been quiet over the last few weeks, as they normally are this time of year."

"Brother Olors has come a long way and is now giving his own sermons to the congregation in our library. Although my heart is programmed to feel warm at this, I believe I would feel the same way if I was like my more biological brethren."

"Kaijin has been quiet as well, busily working away at his latest scheme which will no doubt be undone by the soft fruit of doom in good time."

"Brother Boi and the Intern have been quiet silent keeping a low profile as well. They seem to be getting along well though, which is good as th-"

A sudden, violent gust of wind tore open the curtains as the window was rent open; scattering paper and sending a deathly chill to every corner of the room.

Soup King Prime got out of his seat and went over to the window to investigate.

The air was filled with the howl of the wind, as well as clicking and whirring as the various sensors and cameras scanned the scene for any sign of the source of the disturbance.

The window had a commanding view of the streets leading into the heart of the city, and for the most part, everything appeared to be in order.

However, beyond the range of human hearing, a rhythmic beating, like that of a massive drum, could be heard. The source of which appeared to be the old hospital where the spare Sams used to be made.

In the air above the facility, faint beams of Green, Red and Blue light could be seen shooting into the sky above the facility.

Soup King Prime let out a loud sigh.

"It seems that Kaijin's Konstructs cannot read…or more likely ignored the warnings left behind."

"Well, we almost made it without an incident this year."

Soup King Prime pressed a button under his desk and the night was broken by the sound of countless Shitbots mobilising in the main church and marching silently out into the night for places unknown.

Soup King Prime stalked through the halls before coming to a sudden stop beside on of the ventilation shafts. With no warning, the machine thrust his arm through the vent and dragged a figure kicking and screaming from within.

After calming Brother Boi down, he led him to where Brother Olors was meditating in the library.

"Dark times are upon us Brother Boi."

"I know what you see transpiring before you does not…inspire confidence, but as long as you are strong and sensible, you will be safe."

"Me and my brethren must leave, but we will return as as soon as possible"

"I sense Brother Olors is going to be very busy in the events to come, so I leave you in charge of the CoC until our return."

"I am leaving now, but before I go, I must urge you to help Kaijin and the Shirleyists in the days ahead."

"I know it may gall you to do so, but despite their…rude and uncivil behaviour , they are still kin; as much as they deny it."

"Despite how you may feel about this, know that you are worthy."

"Fare ye well, Brother."

With that, Soup King Prime made his way to join the end of procession of Shitbots.

Silhouetted against the dark evening sky at the mouth of the church's main doors, he turned around to wave sadly before disappearing into the night.

(Oh, shit, I'm still super behind schedule on the comic and Soup King's posting crazy story arcs again.)

(And just to make sure everything's clear, before I actually start posting the comic, I'll post a prologue-lore-dump that recaps stuff at makes sure everyone's sure of what's going on before actually beginning. Remember, I technically haven't been seen since my crusade into Hell to kill the Dodecagon after I killed Soup King Prime and the Circle. Although, just to do a minor, and in my opinion inconsequential, spoiler as to new character designs: I have absolutely fallen in love with the Gut-Cannon from the Obliterator Kommando_Kaijin design and I'm probably going to make it a standard feature of any future Shitpost Thread-Exclusive Kommando-Kaijin Designs. Although I won't reveal the actual full design until late in the comic's story, I want it to be a surprise. I can promise a bit of an edge-fest and that's all I'm going to say.)

(I'm also fighting the urge to draw memes about my OCs that would distract from working on the comic. "The Virgin Generic Villainess vs. The Chad Kommando_Kaijin Female Protagonsits & Antiheroes" will have to wait. Although there is one character design that doesn't come until much, much later that is a bit of a disguised meme.)

(Also, in response to Soup King's Halloween Story Arc, it's probably going to be all or almost entirely Undefinable Revelation characters, since I don't want to use anyone that would currently be busy elsewhere according to my own personal lore.)

(On a sidenote that's really a slam-head-on-desk-worthy anachronistic fuck-up on my part, I previously made a post where a Chengdu J-20 participates in an event that takes place in early 2007. In real life, this aircraft's proposed design was not approved until 2008. I'm going to be pulling bullshit out of my ass to make this work, somehow, I guess.)

What is our relation to the church of big chungus?

(Don't worry about anachronisms too much. We have robots, space travel and penguins with FRICKIN' LASER BEAMS strapped to their heads.)

(I'm sure a slightly more modern fighter jet won't cause too much problems.)

As for Brother No's questions.

We hath consulted the sacred texts and unfortunately Big Chungus is a heretic in almost every case.

Although he is most certainly very circular when lying down, or in motion, his resting shape is that of an oblong. A most heinous mockery of the Holey One's form.

His rectangular teeth also bring his true loyalties into doubt.

Can one with such prominent (shudders) angles truly be an ally of the Undeserving Circle?

We shall have to watch them closely before coming up with a final judgement on the matter.

Big Chungus, a sinful abomination?
Well, as long as he's not cringe.

Well, I have quite the cult to describe…

Unlike most other cults in the area, this one keeps plenty of records. For example, the founding date was April 13th, 2422. Their scriptures are illustrated, and sometimes even interactive, organized into a set order, a series of acts as you will, and even discerning canon from non-canon. They are an apocalyptic bunch who put Spirograph patterns within their circles for some reason.
Despite their quite recent founding, the archives date as far back as the early 21st century, suggesting that 2422 was not their first attempt at congregating.
Something in their library that really stands out is a garish, yet comparatively short series with characters speaking a particularly exotic dialect of 21st century english.

how is this thread still alive

Because we successfully trapped 3-4 RP-obsessed retards in one thread, triggering a self-sustaining reaction of shitposts, lore-dumps and OC battles. If we could convert the sheer absurdity and ridiculousness that this thread radiates into energy, every power grid in the world would instantaneously overload and explode due to how concentrated our collective autistic dumbassery is.

Praise Shirley or get BTFO'd by edgy berserker robo-pansexuals and tacticool redneck gals, while a British robot dumps shitposts, a winged circle dude spouts religious observations, a South American simps for tomboys and an angel dude is strangely absent. If I had more time to myself and had the comic finished, I'd consider making an iceberg tier list just so I can dump it somewhere and let everyone who stumbles across wonder in concern as to what entries like "Blütgrindor & Rhajamaut Sam clone orgy" and "MPreg arc" mean. There's definitely some other good stuff for one of those icebergs if you look through the whole thing post by post, I can assure you, this has been one Hell of a ride I intend on making it an even bigger Hell of one once I can focus some time and effort on things.

Also, join the Church of Shirley, we have cookies, women taller than 6'0" and an infinite stockpile of weapons of mass destruction.

Here's two for the iceberg tier list: "Quiet_boi is a tomboy" and "Quiet_boi is a thirsty loner pretending to like tomboys"

• >MFW I get an idea for a Thread Halloween Special involving AI-controlled Furby knock-offs gaining the ability to explosively replicate themselves and become an invasive species and infesting the sewers, streets and basements of the entire city and everyone sets off in a rush to destroy as many "Furby Generators" as possible so their numbers can be brought down to manageable levels, but it's literally October 30th and there's no time.

Eh. Maybe I'll save it for later, I can think of a setting that could be made maybe a bit more interesting with the inclusion of "Evil Furby-Knock-Off Murder-Robot-Tribbles." It'd be a funny contrast to the large amounts of tall, massive war machines in that setting, anyways.

So essentially, the game Tattletail combined with Gremlins.
Bah, probably better than my idea for a Halloween thread of a roleplaying session taking place during the last days of the wild west and inside of an abandoned hotel in a already industrialized town.

I was thinking more along the lines of Tattletail combined with Space Hulk: Deathwing and the Borg from Star Trek in that they convert sections of the sewers into Furby Generating "Nests" but I'm gonna save it for later now.

They’re out and about

Biggest is a building high and has the width of 2 buildings.
It can fly and phase through walls and has… other powers.

You think that's bad, I've had mind planned at the start of September, but because it requires me to record stuff, I just haven't had the time or inclination to get everything set up.

I'm hoping to get started soon, but we'll have to see…

Hah, I suspect you weren't expecting me to insult myself!

Wildcard Bitches!

(Awkward pause)

Oh, I've also worked out how to make things offensively yellow.

FEAR ME, MORTALS!!!!

Have mercy, HAVE MERCY!

God is not here today.

There's only me.

FZZZZAAAAAP!!!

MY EYES!

Kommando was standing in a control room deep below the surface, overlooking a massive underground industrial zone. Two hulking metallic figures approached him, Blütgrindor and the not-quite-human figure.

"Everything isssss going accorrrrrding to plan massssterrrrrrr!" The figure said. It then ducked immediately as Kommando swung his fist at him.

"According to plan!?!?!" Kommando shouted, having grown aggravated with the countless delays and slow progress. "We've been here for months! Months longer than this was supposed to take and the end is nowhere in sight! I've other tasks to toil at, yet here I am!" Kommando ranted while the figure began scuttling away from him while retracting it's long neck into it's torso.

"Exactly! It is time for action! No more sulking about in the shadows, it is the time to strike and let them know to whom this world belongs to!" Blütgrindor chimed in, eager to be engulfed by the flames of war once more.

"Silence, you Kurgan-esque rake!" He snapped back at the blood-haired berserker. "You're just as much of a problem, but in the other direction! While my inferior might be too cowardly to act when appropriate, you have no inhibition, no restraint! Even outside of combat, you simply can't control yourself! If it weren't for the gifts I've given you, you would have succumbed to your own hubris long ago!" Kommando spouted at her.

"Morons! I've got morons on my team!" Kommando lamented, turning himself away from the two subordinates. "One of my highest-ranking fighters is a degenerated and amoral hedonist who derives pleasure from committing the most repugnant and heinous atrocities possible and the other is a death-mecha Chamberlain-lookin'-ass coward, whose true loyalties do not escape my suspicion! Truly the grand army of The Church of Shirley could not be in a worse state, despite our recent advancements…" The clearly angered and loathing leader turned to face the two minions once more and muttered threateningly "If either of you ever fail me again in the slightest, I will not hesitate to end you in a prolonged, painful and brutal death, the spectacle of which I will fully utilize to dissuade your underlings from as much of entertaining the thought of disobedience!" Kommando then returned to peering out of the window. "You are dismissed."

The two warriors hastily exited the room.

(Ever get so upset with your own terrible time management and hideous tendency for schedule creep you write a post in an RP thread where you verbally accost your avatar character's minions for being legitimately terrible people?)

(I have the opposite case for my oc, but yeah whenever I set deadlines that are, say, a month away, I have trouble going along with it when the time comes. It’s easier whenever I post things hours or even minutes after having the idea.)

Kommando stared at the closed door, his thoughts ablaze in the whirling tempest of his fury as he struggled to get a grip on the situation.

Everything was fine. It was going to be fine. As long as he kept control of the situation and the current mess the Church was in was kept under wraps; everything was going to be fi-

A cheerful clinking sound cut through the air.

"Bravo! Marvellous speech, simply marvellous!"

Turning as if burdened by a great weight, Kommando turned towards the source of the sound.

Sitting on his chair in the middle of his Kommand Center was a Shitbot with one of it's eyes replaced with a Hi-Def reconnaissance camera and an aerial poking up from it's back.

It was in the process of giving Kommando a sitting ovation.

"How. Did. You. Get. Here?"

"Oh, like normal. Through one of the many unlocked doors you have."

"Bullshit! You can't just wander through the Church without something detecting you!"

"Ah, well, you see…"

The Shitbot flipped a switch on one of the control panels and with a blinding flash, the mood lighting was replaced with the harsh, scorching glare of florescent bulbs.

Painted head to toe in purple and with both the mark of the Undefinables and the Church of Shirley proudly emblazoned on its chest, the Shitbot suddenly looked very sheepish.

A deep animalistic growl emanated from Kommando that suggested that although it wasn't possible for there to be a great wailing and gnashing of teeth inflicted upon his subordinates; he would do his best to try regardless.

"Yeah…that's…that's an understandable reaction. We weren't expecting this to work either…"

Kommando, his voice twisted to the point of inhumanity by the sheer rage that contorted his body, howled at the machine.

"Why! Here! You!"

The Shitbot swivelled the chair nervously as it tried to word it's message as carefully as it could.

"Well…you see…it seems that the spat between you and Number 15 over religious differences is…escalating considerably. What with the…you know, killer trans-dimensional robots and the…sentient [SPOILER] tag."

"Because of that, we've decided to put in some…counter-measures…that you need to be aware of."

"We've put 56's and 82's portal to use and have used it to construct numerous trans-dimensional pulse devices…well, we're not entirely sure where, but certainly close-by in meta-physical terms."

"In the…rare event that you manage to destroy all of us, the devices will activate and eradicate the very existence of sweet tea from the fabric of every reality whilst also rendering all sentient life, biological and mechanical, from…ever…being….able…to….recreate…it…"

Kommando had become motionless. His mask obscuring his physical features and his loose fitting uniform gave the impression that he had stopped breathing and simply turned to stone.

"I…er…I'll just…just let myself out…"

The Shitbot slowly got out of the chair and gave Kommando the widest possible berth as it carefully walked out of the room, keeping it's face to Kommando the entire time.

About 20 minutes later, Kommando called all of his subordinates together to give them an impromptu performance review…

(Sometimes it's not bad to miss deadlines, as you can spend more time thinking about what you are actually doing and come up with improvements along the way.)

(I often find that once I start working on something, I start getting ideas on how to make it better half-way through.)

(The only thing I tend to use deadlines for is starting dates, because that's what trips me up.)

(Once I've started something, I'll work through it to completion; but I'll only start something if I feel I've got time to finish it.)

(This is why I go through periods of making dozens of things, to just nothing for long periods of time)

(Also, going by the height charts you've given me, your skills have definitely improved over the last few months, so it's understandable if you also go back and touch up on the earlier parts as well.)

>Me looking at both Kaijin and King struggle with dealines
[Laughs in spontaneous posts]
(But no, really. Delay what you feel you most and upload at your most comfortable rate, do everything to not get burned out if you must)
(I, on the other hand, haven't really added something with my posts because I'm pretty much out of ideas, but I won't get out of this ship because I might end up regretting it afterwards if i get a good one later)

(The only page I've gotten finished is just cars moving, so I'm not particularly concerned with going back and doing anything to that page, the page I'm currently working on (actually just sitting there partially complete until I'm finished with some other drawings) does actually have characters, but the line art for them is only about 30-40% complete and none of the complete panels show full-body stuff, so it's not like there's anything I'd have to go back and change in that regard anyways.)

(The first few chapters are just going to have single-page comics that act as basically intros to walls of text, but there are fights later on that I'm intent on doing entirely in comic format.)

(I've also already decided to make 56 and 82's portal important to the story.)

(And just as a heads up, I've already drawn some art of unintroduced OC's way back when I was first planning this, so if the quality of stuff in the prologue seems to hop back-and-forth, that's why.)

(There's also characters that I didn't want to introduce until the comic, but still greatly enjoy writing about, Scarlette Bolide was originally made specifically for the comic and wasn't supposed to be introduced until the comic, but has since gained more of her own backstory and lore that exists wholly divorced from the thread and now fits nicely into Universe 04/"Shirley & Friends" to the point that I just brought her in anyways, ahead of schedule. There's also the not-quite-human figure who's supposed to be important and I'm refraining from fully revealing them until their introduction in the comic. They've definitely become one of my favorite characters despite remaining exclusive to the thread's lore so far, I hope you all get a kick out of them, too.)

(Also, on the subject of Scarlette Bolide, I haven't unveiled a design for her yet, but I already have a couple and I'm going to refrain from unveiling them until she appears in the comic. Although if you're curious, she looks pretty true to her name and personality in my opinion.)

(Unfortunately, I come up with ideas faster than I can make them happen, so I'm already tinkering with ideas for a sequel, mainly because I like the story I've come up with for it and I'd like to do more of it. One thing that will definitely happen if I ever get around to that would be Blütgrindor and her lot getting properly introduced to the thread and it would include her in the story.)

Blütgrindor returns to her fortress in her pocket dimension and begins shifting from her Undefinable form back to her Human form. Once finished, she puts on a black T-shirt reading "God told me to skin you alive." in white comic sans text and begins walking to her quarters. Rhajamaut in human form immediately rushes to her side as an especially massive Undefinable begins briefing Blütgrindor on the status of the fortress. Blütgrindor stops and turns to enter a coliseum hosting a massive arena. She sits and watches as one of the warriors who betrayed her all those eons ago and her disfigured husband are forced to eternally fight against beasts and champions that greatly outclass them for the amusement the others.

The gates flung open and a single riderless war horse galloped in and stood still before it's torso split open and began contorting and shifting to reveal more and more metallic components until a 7-foot tall garishly colored Undefinable stood in it's place with the legs from it's horse form curled on it's back. The crowd cheered at her appearance and cheered even louder when her breastplate opened to eject a small cube onto the ground that revealed itself to be a sword-wielding Undefinable with a confident look on his face. These gladiators were there entirely by there own will as opposed to their adversaries. The traitor warrior briefly shuddered at the sight of her opponents before gritting her teeth together and charging as the horn signalling the beginning of the fight sounded.

The traitor warrior's Undefinable form was ill-suited for the task ahead of her, having only a few simple axes for weapons and being skeletal and scantily armored, with most of her metallic muscle fibers exposed. As horrible as her form was, her husband's was worse, he looked like some sort of diseased mechanical ape and could barely string a sentence together anymore, the only advantage was his extreme strength, but that was largely irrelevant given that their opponents were often allocated the use of various ranged weaponry.

The garishly-colored Undefinable merely laughed and leaped out of the way of both of her opponents' attacks before producing a lance which she used to impale the traitor warrior to the floor at the shoulder. The lance had gone straight through the motors that made up the joint and paralyzed her entire left arm, unable to remove the lance, the traitor was left with no choice but to hastily tear her shoulder from her torso to avoid a strike from the garishly-colored Undefinable. Quickly getting back to her feet and drawing her axe, the traitor tried to retaliate against her opponent, who nigh-effortlessly avoided her swings, grabbed her remaining arm, broke off the head of her axe and with a single kick, snapped the traitor's mechanic spine just above the waist.

The traitor's husband was not fairing much better, the diminutive sword fighter evaded every blow he swung at him and had already hacked off some of his armor. Just as things couldn't get worse, he looked up to see the garishly-colored Undefinable lunge towards him and begin bludgeoning him with none other than his own wife's paralyzed body. The garishly-colored Undefinable beat the hulking traitor with her improvised club ferociously until the traitor warrior's body snapped in two, sending the torso flying across the arena. She then discarded the battered pair of mechanical legs and turned her arm into a small cannon and fired a single blast of violet energy into the disoriented traitor brute's head, shattering it and his shoulders in a brilliant explosion.

The traitor warrior tried to crawl away with her remaining arm, but before she could get far, it was crushed by the stomp of the garishly-colored Undefinable. With the traitor pinned and entirely immobilized, the garishly-colored Undefinable leaned down and grabbed her opponent by the scalp. The crowd, anticipating the inevitable, began cheering wildly.

"I win!" The garishly-colored Undefinable merrily cheered as she ripped her opponent's head form her neck with raw strength alone and held it in the air above her. Blütgrindor chuckled at the sight from her balcony while Rhajamaut began chuckling with her. The traitor warrior's expression slowly melted into one of absolute agony and misery as the last bit of power in it was drained, the last sight she ever saw before everything going black was an entire coliseum cheering at her destruction, with the worst part being that she had seen it trillions of times before and would see it again and again not too longer after they put her back together.

"Aww, it's over already?" The traitor heard her opponent complain as everything faded to black, just before everything went numb, she felt a falling sensation that thanks to experience, she knew meant that her head was being dropped and cast aside like simple garbage.

(I get what your saying about getting ideas faster than you can create them.)

(There's been something I wanted to do in this thread for a long while that would give everyone a role to play, but I haven't had the time to do it properly.)

(I'm off for the next week, so I'll see what I can do.)

(In the meantime, I wrote this…this)

"I believe we have lost five currency tokens, Number 56."

"Indeed. I believe this requires a negative response, Number 82."

The machines stood where they normally did when they watched the fights.

They liked this spot. It was most wonderfully wondrous.

They could study the wonderful movements of the combatants. They could hear the wonderful sound they made as blows were swung and landed. They could see the wonderful way in which bone snapped and cuts severed limbs.

It was so wonderfully informative.

Yes.

"It is curious as to why we continue to pay for their potential victory, Number 56."

"I believe it is customary to pay for the…Under…Dog, Number 82."

"I see, Number 56, I see."

The machines also felt this was a most wonderful spot as it let them look up at the crowd.

Oh, they so adored the looks on the faces of their fellow audience members.

So happy.

So excited.

So thrilled that it was not them.

They knew this face well.

Yes.

"I still argue that they are the true victors in these contests, Number 56."

"Indeed, they fight although they know that loss is always inevitable, Number 82."

"I find this fact most curious, since this seems to be a contest of strength, Number 56."

Ah yes, strength.

That seemed to be a most pressing concern amongst the inhabitants here.

They approached them with offers of currency tokens to make the small ones big.

They did not understand why.

They were quite happy to do it for fun.

Fun!

That was a concept that they had learned here.

The performance of actions for no particular reason than to pass time in an amicable manner.

They liked fun.

Yes.

"I believe we need to attend to physical studies, Number 56."

"Lead on, Number 82, lead on."

The machines made their way through the lower depths of the fortress.

They like the denizens of this place.

They always gave them such wide smiles before excitedly running off to do whatever duty they had to do. Some even giggled at the sight of them.

Happy. Happy. Happy.

A big one had brought a small one for them to make big.

A bag of currency tokens was placed on one of the work surfaces.

They do not know why.

"I wish for you to carry out the same…procedure as last time…Outsiders."

"Do you believe this one is sure, Number 56?"

"We could make it gain access to free movement of the Z axis, Number 82?"

"Perhaps an energy manipulator powered by it's natural power source, Number 56?"

"No…no, thank you. Just improved physical attributes…please."

The machines began as they always did, with the removal of the muscle fibre coverings.

The small one begins making loud noises like they normally did.

They took this opportunity to widen the vocal cords.

They were told the effects were undignified if they did not.

They carefully unravelled the muscle fibres and spread them across the operating table.

They then firmly tugged the supporting beams out of place.

The small one was making a most unagreeable level of noise now.

The big one was wearing the face that they saw it wear whilst watching the arena fights.

They then firmly reinserted longer supporting beams into place.

They carefully re-ravelled the muscle fibres and tightened them across the new frame.

The machines finish as they always did, stitching a new muscle fibre covering across the big one's body.

"Ah, another successful operation doctors."

"Are we doctors, Number 56?"

"I thought we were mechanics, Number 82?"

"Perhaps we are both, Number 56?"

"Perhaps we are neither, Number 82?"

"…of course. Well, until your services are required again."

The big one left with the big one whimpering quietly to itself.

Their brothers would probably not approve of this.

Brotherhood!

That was another thing they had learned here.

They remarked on how wondrous it was to have so many people they could relate to and rely on for support of many kinds.

Strange, they thought, for such a concept to be championed so vigorously here in word, but rarely seen in deed.

They missed their brothers.

They would often join in with their…fun…and they made much less noise than the small ones did.

Most agreeable.

Yes.

"Do you think return will be possible soon, Number 56?"

"I doubt it, Number 82. I doubt it."

"You think they still await for the dissipation of the rake, Number 56?"

"Indeed, Number 82. Indeed."

"Curious, it doesn't seem to bother them the rest of the year, Number 56."

"There are many things people do that are strange, Number 82."

"Indeed, Number 56, Indeed."

They heard a rumbling from above which indicated that the competitors had been reassembled and the next match was imminent.

The machines made their way up to the arena and returned to their most wonderfully wondrous spot.

They threw their customary five currency tokens into the pit below where they made sharp clinking sounds when they landed.

They were excited to see if the strong ones would win this time.

They wouldn't.

But it would be simply wonderful if they did.

Yes.

(First of all, they would have been caught, but this thread is pure chaos, so…)

(Secondly, size-obsession isn't much of a thing with any Undefinable factions. 7'0" is on the low side of the spectrum for an Undefinable and the traitor warrior that got eviscerated was the same height as the garishly-colored Undefinable she was fighting. Blütgrindor herself is also only 7 feet tall in Undefinable form and several of her subordinates are much taller than her.)

(Also, you wouldn't want to wander the lower depths of Blütgrindor's fortress, there's some Eldritch and Lovecraftian horror-shit down there. Also, there's a shrine-like tower at the edge of the main atrium that all the aforementioned buildings, arenas, living quarters, etc. are located in, just don't go in that tower. Whatever you do, don't. Just don't. Trust me on this one.)

(Eh, catching them isn't so hard. What happens after you capture them is where the fun begins)

(At this point, these two have started to become some horrific blend of Yog-Sothoth and Nyarlathotep with a thin veneer of cheerful politeness as the cherry on this existential cupcake of doom.)

(I just assumed that since the Undefinable Revelation are rather unquestionably militant, they would take any chance to become stronger; regardless of the ethical quandaries involved.)

(And it just so happens that two strangers have arrived promising them such, and they haven't lied or been proven wrong about such things yet.)

(And do the higher ups really need to be told?)

(All they need to know is that they are getting better, and who doesn't want that?)

(I'm quite happy to leave them in just poking away at unwilling mooks and lurking in the shadows for now.)

(Don't worry about the tower, I'm not going to go near it; but I'm sure someone will in good/bad time.)

(Oh, when I was writing this, I was intending it to be read in a very ecstatic way or a way which conveyed forced excitement. I'm not sure this get's conveyed properly in the flow of the writing though)

*Big Chungus give an evil smile…he prepares his evil non-spherical plans on the backround"

(Members of Undefinable Revelation can be divided into three distinct categories, those being "Loyalists," "Traitors" and the mindless drones that for this faction specifically are mostly faceless replicas of named member's Undefinable bodies with a very, for lack of a better term, Flanderized copies of the original's personality. They don't talk much except to occasionally shout a phrase that the original says extremely often. The Loyalists are the ones who didn't betray Blütgrindor and tried to defend her during the incident on the ship, they were also the first ones to be granted Undefinable powers after they were all killed and tossed into the ocean (If you're familiar with Fire Emblem Fates, what the Undefinable Revelation characters are corruptions of, the Loyalists are mostly made up of the Nohrian characters with a few Hoshidans, most prominently Rhajamaut/Rhajat and Reinayari/Reina.) The Traitors are the ones who sided with Hinokaizen/Hinoka and fought against Blütgrindor, they were granted Undefinable powers at a much later time, after being conquered by the Loyalists and were subsequently mutilated and disfigured in various horrific ways by Blütgrindor as an act of revenge for killing her and the others, they're mostly used as a sort of Penal Unit and as seen above, arena fodder (and to add to the previous point of Undefinable Revelation characters being corruptions of FE14's cast of characters, the Traitors are nigh-exclusively Hoshidans.))

(None of the three groups above would really ever trust a Shitbot of a Circle Cultist as the Loyalists are fanatically loyal the The Church of Shirley, the Traitors are aware of Shitbots being absolute freaks, especially 56 and 82, and the drones only do what they're told and nothing else, including killing any Circle Cultists and/or Shitbots on sight.)

(Also, I'm planning on making the Church of Shirley's efforts and goals shift away from just destroying the Circle Cult and towards very specifically destroying 56 and 82 and anything they create, it's a long way off right now, but it's a direction I want to take things eventually. Don't worry, thing will get crazy.)

(Oh dear, should I start rolling the SAN checks now, just so we have them all ready to go?)

(For the Circle Cult? I don't think Sanity would really apply to the average Loyalist member of Undefinable Revelation and definitely not the Drones. I mean, have you been paying attention to how Blütgrindor is? Besides, Undefinables are kind of lite-cosmic horrors in and of themselves, the main difference being that I'm playing them from an action-oriented angle and not so much a horror one.)

(Additionally, how would that even apply to Castiellea? She regularly disposes of Cosmic Horrors with ease that are also sorta-kinda Great Filters in the Fermi Paradox sense, stuff like corrupt sentient supercomputers twice the size of Jupiter that just thought the civilization that created it out of existence, bizarre extraterrestrial life both sentient and animalistic and even stranger things. I guess she's even a bit of a cosmic entity herself, her home contains structures that violate the rules of three-dimensional space, she knows knowledge that would drive ordinary people to suicide and insanity immediately, she's been alive for at least several billion years and is essentially immortal and she can just will things into and out of existence.)

(I just had the revelation that this thread has every right to be a religious war due to the sheer number of cosmic-clusterfucks participating in it's armed conflicts.)

(It was just a bad table top joke, don't worry about it too much.)

(As to my own personal thoughts on 56 and 82, I view them as being something meta-physical.)

(Like, if doesn't matter if you were to destroy them utterly, as there is now a 56 and 82 shape embedded into the very fabric of reality.)

(They are not so much of a living creature as they are a force of the universe, like gravity or nuclear fusion.)

(It's as if friction became sentient and decided that it no longer applies to weasels, because it doesn't feel like it.)

(This is the trouble with writing Cosmic and Lovecraftian Horror. When you are dealing with things beyond human comprehension, it makes it really hard to write or discuss it well because we are trying to comprehend the incomprehensible.)

(Yeah, the only thing Castiellea or anyone equivalent to her can't handle is something referred to as "The Beyond" because it's beyond comprehension, beyond existence and beyond any of their capabilities so far. The only way anything in a normal reality can interact with it is to either shut it out or be consumed and destroyed by it.)

(So, once again, none of my settings are free from cosmic horrors.)

(Although, on the more pertinent subject, what is God besides the tailor of the fabric of reality? The one who decides how forces of nature work? Or if they even exist?)

(But now we're getting into the subject of what is incomprehensible to that which we cannot comprehend, but can comprehend us, so to say.)

(The way I see it, reality is comprised of shells, each representing a meta layer.)
(Deep within, we have the setting in which (most?) of our characters reside.)
(Outside of that, we have the thread which lets us talk this way)
(Eventually, we got real life, aka the region outside of the online world. Beyond that, it’s uncertain what’s past the outermost shell, that is, what the most real of realities is)

Blütgrindor and Carmilla were flying over the city when they spotted Quiet_boi walking down the sidewalk. They immediately swoop down and land at both of his sides. Blütgrindor's hand distorted into an inhuman mechanical claw and grabbed his head, she then pushes him into a hunched position. Carmilla chuckled as Blütgrindor leaned towards his ear and whispered:

"GAAAAAAAAAAAY!"

They then threw Quiet_boi to the ground before leaping away, reverting to their dragon forms and soaring away over the horizon.

Kommando then appeared dressed up as Robert Downey Jr. and pointing at Quiet_boi while making a surprised facial expression and speaks to an invisible audience:

"There's a CIA assassin outside my home!"

The camera then cuts to J. standing in the front yard of Kommando's militarized industrial complex. The camera then pans out to reveal that past couple paragraphs were actually recorded on a VHS which is being watched by Kitty and Tex.

"Welp, looks like we successfully taped over all of it!" Kitty said.

"Yeah, I might know some big-time lawyers and billionaires, but not even they could cover up what we just did." Tex continued.

"They can never know… never know…" Kitty replied.

The two then sped away towards a local diner, leaving the VHS tape in question unattended. Curly then finds the tape and begins watching it, when she suddenly notices a single out of place frame at the very end of the tape. She slowly moved the footage frame-by-frame to the frame in question and found the image of a red and green F-14. She had no idea what it meant and just left to cause trouble elsewhere.